


happy wife, happy life

by unicyclehippo



Series: Blue Girls Have The Most Fun [39]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, the inherent homoeroticism of roommates, unrequited? i dont think so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25641928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicyclehippo/pseuds/unicyclehippo
Summary: prompt: marriage, beauor,When it is just the two of them, it's easier to speak openly, honestly.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Series: Blue Girls Have The Most Fun [39]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824289
Comments: 3
Kudos: 113





	happy wife, happy life

_"Once upon a time, there was a prince and a princess and when the battles were done, they met up in the temple atop the hill and swore their undying love to one another. A vow sealed by true love’s kiss. The wedding was -"_

‘Do you think - ’

Jester looks over at her roommate at the hesitant half-question that interrupts the story. Beau is stretched out on her own bed, stripped down to her underthings so that none of the wicked-smelling ointment smeared over her burns will get on her good clothes; turns out that a whip isn’t always such a fun thing, especially in the hands of a fire elemental thing, and Beau had come away from the fight worse off than any of them with these blistering lines across her back and one bad one on the back of her neck. Jester had been quick to pour what healing she had left into her, but whether this has fucked up her tattoo from Orly is yet to be seen. Beau is laying with her arms in a loose diamond - hands above her head, elbows loose to either side - and so it’s kinda hard to see her face behind her bicep. But she is turned toward Jester, that much is obvious, and she’s not asleep because there’s this deep crinkle in her forehead that is only there when she’s awake.

‘Sometimes,’ Jester laughs. After a second, Beau barks a laugh too. ‘What about?’

‘I dunno. Forget it. What happens to Willy next?’

‘It’s _Warrick_ ,’

‘He’s a prop character for a dick, Jes,’

‘No! He’s _lovely_.’

‘Name _one_ thing that he’s actually done in the story that involved this muscle,’ Beau challenges her, shifting her hand with a muffled pained groan to tap her temple.

‘Don’t _hurt_ yourself to prove a point, Beau.’

‘Aw, but it’s what I’m best at.’

The amused smile she sends Jester - that Jester can see now that her arm is out of the way - is small and sweet, a flash of white teeth before it settles into a smirk again. Jester frowns. 

‘That’s not funny.’

Beau shrugs. ‘You’re the jester.’ She drops her hand from her temple. Tries subtly to shift it back toward her neck - freezes when Jester hisses.

‘ _No scratching_.’ She watches, eyes narrowed, until Beau places her hand back where it was above her head. It’s good, because Beau can’t scratch like that. It’s bad, because Beau’s face is hidden again and even though the girl is right there, Jester is struck by the faintest longing. She hasn’t felt lonely since they started sharing a room way back in Allfield but recently…something had changed. 

‘Did you remember what you wanted to ask?’

‘Did you think of anything _Warrick_ had done beyond flexing and distracting the guards with the _beads of glistening sweat that dripped from his stacked muscles_?’

Jester grins. ‘No.’

‘Hm. I was just wondering,’ Beau says, very lightly, very nonchalant, but seems to have forgotten that the majority of her back is exposed. Jester watches as it tightens, knot by knot, ‘if you reckon a marriage can be like that.’

Jester blinks. ‘Huh?’

‘Y’know. True love or whatever. But after the first kiss and the marriage and the settling down ‘n shit. Do you think - ‘ She trails off again with a frustrated kind of sigh. 

‘That people can be happy?’

‘I - yeah.’

Jester closes the forgotten book, sets it aside. She works her way down her bed so she’s laying down, moves until her head is level with Beau’s across the small aisle between their beds. ‘I guess… I don’t know,’ she admits. ‘It’s kind of sad to think about, we don’t really know too many people who are…’

‘Happy.’

Jester grips her blanket in her hand. Laughs very quietly because what else is there to do? Cry? ‘Yeah.’ Looking up from the blanket - a familiar, reassuring green weight - she catches Beau’s eyes intent on her. 

Intent.

Impossibly soft. 

‘Sorry for bringing it up. I was thinking - about my parents,’ Beau says, and Jester has known her long enough to know that it’s a lie of the kind Beau favours. A little bit of truth peppered into it. 

Jester nods. ‘I’ll get the lights,’ she offers after a bit, since Beau isn’t supposed to move, and with a flick of her hand she conjures a breeze that whips through the room - extinguishes the candle by the door and the one on the desk. And if it blows cool over Beau’s back to play in her hair for a second, well, that’s just a little treat. 

Beau shivers. 

She's silent for a moment. Jester thinks about asking about Beau's parents but she hates how sad Beau pretends not to be, talking about them. She's straining to think of something else she can ask Beau, the silence way too heavy for comfort, when Beau says,

‘Allura’s hitched.’

‘Huh?’

‘Allura. That wizard lady - the one that scried on Yasha and figured out about the Iron Angel.’

‘Angel of Irons.’

‘Whatever,’ Beau says. Not dismissive, but so full of vitriol Jester can only assume that denying the name is Beau’s own form of vengeance. Perhaps from someone so focused on knowledge and all of that, maybe it is. ‘Anyway, she’s hitched.’

‘That’s right.’ Jester smiles, remembering the fond way Allura had spoken of her wife. Remembering the sleep lines across the woman’s face and the way she had turned the mirror to let her partner get her sleep. How she had fiddled with the gold band around her finger, like she wished her wife were at her side. ‘She seemed happy.’

‘Yeah. She did.’

‘Do you think that’s, like, because she’s married to a woman?’

Beau laughs. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You’ll have to let me know.’

Beau laughs again. If there had been any other sound in the room, in the space around them, Jester may not have noticed the tinge of bitterness to the sound. But she does, and it makes her heart _ache_. The distance between them feels like a yawning - and _growing_ \- divide. The weight resting on Beau feels too heavy to shift, let alone lift off in its entirety. Jester wishes… She _wishes…_

‘It could be that. But I reckon it’s like. Because she’s a good person probably.’

‘You think she’s happy because she’s good?’ Jester asks quietly.

‘Maybe she’s good because she’s happy,’ Beau returns, just as quietly, and Jester doesn’t know what to do with that.


End file.
